


Lessons Learned

by blue_jack



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Gags, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-17
Updated: 2010-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt: Sometimes when Bones is just so goddamn mouthy he's driving everyone insane, he's really just asking for Jim to gag him and then put him over his knee and turn his ass red. YEAH. You're welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons Learned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canistakahari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/gifts).



> For canistakahari's prompt on the buckleup_meme.
> 
> Thanks to caitri for beta'ing.

“Damn it, Bones.” Jim shoves Bones into his quarters, locking the door behind him. He knew Bones was acting antsy lately, but there’s been too much going on with the summit and ferrying all the ambassadors around, and he obviously hasn’t paid enough attention, because there’s antsy and then there’s fucking _out of his mind_. So yeah, maybe he should’ve realized Bones was at that point so he could’ve found the time to take care of the problem, but Bones never _tells_ him this shit, always expects Jim to just _know_ somehow, and he’s fucking tired of it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bones snarls, turning to face him with his hands on his hips, the curl of his lip making Jim positively see red.

“Shut it, Bones. I’m not in the mood for this today.” He _still_ can’t believe Bones unleashed his full temper in front of so many delegates and Starfleet officers. What the hell was he thinking? They could have ordered Jim to discipline Bones for insubordination, nearly had, and it had taken a lot of smooth talking, called-in favors and promises he knows he’s going to hate keeping before all the dust settled. He plans to get it all back from Bones before the night is over though. All of it.

Bones’ expression gets even angrier, but not before Jim catches the flash of hurt, which makes him ten times more frustrated, because it _doesn’t have to be like this_ , but it’s Bones, so apparently yeah, it does. “Well, excuse me, _Captain_ , if I’m—”

“Get the fucking gag.”

“Fuck you.”

“Get the fucking gag already!”

“ _Fuck. You._ ”

He launches himself at Bones before he even realizes what he’s doing, satisfied way more than he should be by the grunt Bones makes as Jim’s shoulder hits his stomach, and he tackles him to the floor.

The whole “do no harm” thing is a bunch of bullshit, and Jim has got a bloody lip, what is probably going to be a black eye, and more bruises and scrapes than he can count by the time he has Bones pinned down.

Still, he can forgive the bruises since all that rubbing and sliding has had an effect, and Jim is a little less upset than he was five minutes ago.

“You are such a little _bitch_ sometimes,” he gasps, thrusting against the cleft of Bones’ ass, and he loves Bones’ indignant squawk almost as much as he loves the way Bones spreads his legs that tiniest bit.

Jim flexes his arms, tightening the grip around Bones’ neck and making him grunt even as he kicks Bones’ legs further apart and grinds down, pushing Bones’ dick into the carpet. He knows Bones likes that from the way his fingers dig into Jim’s arms, the way he starts rolling his hips furtively as if Jim isn’t going to notice.

“Are you going to get the gag now?” Jim huffs when that makes Bones rear up, cursing and pushing against the ground with his arms, but Jim lets him do it, releases his hold and rolls away from him because it sucks not being able to use his hands, and he needs to find something to work with.

Bones coughs and rubs at his throat, glaring. “So help me, Jim, I’m going to—”

“Last chance, Bones. Easy or hard?”

“Just _wait_ until your next physical.”

It’s not a “no.” Jim wants to shake his head, wants to yell at Bones about not playing games for once . . . but he’s feeling more excited than he has in ages, high on adrenaline and the thought of what is going to happen next, and maybe Bones isn’t the only one who needs this.

Not that he’s going to admit _that_ anytime soon.

“Hard way it is then.”

The thing about Bones is that he doesn’t want to give up control. He wants it taken from him.

Well, Jim can do that.

He stands up and pulls his outer shirt off, ignoring the “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He’s grateful that he’s not still in his formal uniform like Bones is since the jacket would have been too stiff for this to work, but he’d changed earlier while waiting to get his hands on his foul-mouthed CMO, and it’s about fucking time something is working in his favor.

“The hard way, remember?” He wraps the shirt around his fist and smiles—okay, maybe it’s more like a baring of teeth—and dives across the room.

It takes a while. The more Bones wants something, the more he fights it. It took Jim nearly two _years_ to get Bones into bed with him, and even longer than that to get Bones to admit he wanted something more. So that means he must want this _a lot_. But by the end, Bones is flat on his stomach, arms tied up behind his back with Jim’s shirt, thrashing around like a wild man as he tries to buck Jim off his back, and cursing hard enough to strip the paint from the walls. Speaking of that mouth . . .

Considering they bought the gag together, a person would think they’d actually use it more, but _no_. Jim is always having to improvise, and this time, he’s halfway tempted to stuff Bones’ own briefs into his mouth. Maybe make Bones come on them first, then force him to suck it all out while he spanks the ever loving tar out of him. Unfortunately, the way Bones is all riled up means getting his face anywhere near Bones’ legs is a Very Bad Idea, so he wriggles his way out of his undershirt instead, almost getting thrown off for his trouble. Bastard. He’s going to be black and blue tomorrow.

But Bones is going to be worse.

Jim loops his undershirt over Bones’ head and into his mouth, knotting the ends together on the back of his head while Bones flails around. He can see Bones trying to push it right back out with his tongue, and although the likelihood of him actually succeeding is slim to none, he says, “Do what you want, Bones, but just remember that your room isn’t soundproofed. It’s bad enough anyone walking down the hall is going to hear the spanking. Do you _really_ want them to hear your reaction as well?”

Bones twists his head around, eyes wide and horrified, and woah, that’s a fucking turn on, his face all flushed from fighting, full lips forced open around the black cloth, teeth just barely visible.

It’s pretty impossible to understand what he’s saying, but Jim thinks he gets the gist anyway. “What? You don’t want people to be able to hear you? Well, you should have thought about that before you made this into a public event.”

Maybe, if Bones takes the spanking well and stops being a downright sulky bitch for more than five minutes, Jim will tell him he had Scotty add soundproofing weeks ago. Maybe.

He uses the lull in conversation to yank Bones’ pants down, which isn’t easy since they’re still buttoned and Bones is lying on top of them, but Bones starts struggling again, and that actually helps a bit, and then they tear with a loud, sharp rip, and that helps a lot. Bones is probably going to kick his ass after all is said and done if the muffled shouts are anything to go by, but Jim has his pants and briefs down under his ass now, has a front row seat to watch the rounded muscles flex and clench, and yeah, totally worth it.

The first slap is loud, oh, so very loud, but that might be Jim’s imagination, that might be because his head is just centimeters away from Bones’ ass as he uses his weight to keep Bones pinned down. Of course, it might also be because he has some anger issues to work out, and he might have hit harder than he intended since his hand is already hurting like a son of a bitch and Bones has gone ramrod straight, and that’s just the _first one_.

Still, the red mark on Bones’ ass is gorgeous, all flushed heat against the cool paleness of the rest of his skin, and sure, he’s nowhere near as white as Jim, but still. It’s a sight to behold. So Jim does it again, gentler this time because he doesn’t want to hurt Bones, not really, he wants to make it good for him.

 _Crack_.

Bones doesn’t make a sound, even though his body jerks and tenses before relaxing. Jim strokes the area he just spanked, fingers skimming over the curve of his ass before following it down to the top of his thigh and back up again. He watches the way Bones shivers, arches his back just that tiniest bit to make it easier for Jim to run his hands over him. It’s ironic that Bones will run his mouth off in normal situations, but when Jim has him like this, bare and bruised and exposed, he won’t say a word, won’t make a single noise for the longest time, lets his body talk for him as he leans into each caress, each smack, and makes Jim work for it. And Jim does.

_Crack._

The color is starting to spread now since Jim hasn’t stayed in one spot, has decided to cover all of Bones’ ass before starting over again. He wants this to last, wants Bones to forget whatever tension he’s carrying and just let go, to break down and let Jim pick all the pieces back up. He wants to give Bones whatever he needs, everything he needs, and yeah, he’s angry, but his head is a little clearer now, and he’s starting to feel a little guilty that Bones felt he had to take it this far, so each strike of his hand is punishment and apology both.

_Crack._

Bones doesn’t start grunting until the twenty second one, low, soft sounds that Jim can barely hear over blows of his hand, but his cock jumps at each and every one, and he rewards himself and Bones by spanking him again and getting another little whimper. Jim is sitting up now in order to gradually get more power into each hit, and Bones, as always once they’ve gotten started, is captured motion as he writhes and twists, arching up to meet every downward movement of Jim’s hand. He can feel the heat coming off Bones’ skin as he caresses him between each smack, see the blush that ranges from hip to hip, and it’s beautiful, _Bones_ is beautiful, and Jim’s hand slips in between Bones’ legs, which part to accommodate him as Bones sighs. He explores the soft skin there, roaming from cheeks to balls as he watches Bones’ face, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together, and feels the shudder that travels from his head to his toes.

By the forty fifth strike, Bones is moaning full out, knuckles white where he’s gripping Jim’s undershirt, back heaving and covered in sweat. Jim is starting to get a little worried—anger worked out a long time ago—because Bones’ ass is cherry red and burning to the touch, and truthfully, his hands are _killing_ him, so he can’t even imagine what Bones is feeling. But Bones hasn’t given him his normal signs that he’s ready to stop yet, and Jim’s been checking in the pauses between each hit, which are getting longer and longer.

Jim slides one hand under Bones’ stomach just to check, glad he’d finally gotten Bones’ pants all the way off and thought to put Bones up onto his knees a while ago, and yup, Bones is still half hard.

Okay then.

He can do this. He might not be able to hold a PADD tomorrow, but he can do this for Bones tonight.

But as soon as Jim lets go of Bones’ cock, Bones whines, hips lifting up off his legs, thighs trembling as they spread wider, and the invitation is obvious. And then he confuses the shit out of Jim by tensing and getting back into position.

Jim frowns, and he runs his fingers down Bones’ penis as he watches Bones’ face, doesn’t turn away like he normally would to admire Bones’ red ass or appreciate the contrast of his hand against Bones’ skin. And there it is, the barest shift in expression, a minute slumping of the shoulders, and then it’s gone, as if Bones were trying to hide that he was ready to be finished. But why would he—

Oh fuck.

For a supposed genius, Jim Kirk is an idiot.

Maybe, instead of spending all of his time concentrating on what Bones _did_ , he should have figured out _why_ he’d done it.

 _Fuck_. He’s such a self-centered, oblivious, _fucking_ asshole.

Jim thinks about all the late nights and early mornings, the way his and Bones’ shifts haven’t synched in weeks because the Enterprise was acting like a glorified taxi service, the way all his free time has been taken up wining and dining delegates on behalf of the Federation. Fuck, he’s _so stupid_.

Yeah, Bones wanted the spanking. There’s no denying that. But maybe he wanted— _wants_ the attention even more.

Fucking hell.

Normally they’d end things with Jim fucking Bones, because there is nothing in heaven or on earth that compares to how tight and boiling hot Bones is afterward, to the feel of swollen, blazing skin pressing against Jim’s thighs and groin as Bones comes apart on and around him. And while the idea to do that this time is tempting—so, so tempting—Jim wants something different, wants to give Bones something different.

He can’t flip Bones around with his sore ass and tied arms, so Jim lies flat on his back and maneuvers his own body instead. He can tell Bones is confused by the deviation from the norm, but he doesn’t object, just the opposite in fact, his shoulders sagging as he lets himself crumple and relax, and fuck, that’s just one more thing Jim feels guilty for. But soon enough, Jim has his head between Bones’ legs with Bones’ knees on either side of his shoulders and a face full of Bones' cock, and he feels damn grateful to see it's getting harder and harder.

It’s an awkward position, and it means Bones has to lift his chest off the ground to give him room, which puts a strain on already taxed muscles, and he groans. But when Jim licks a slow wet line up Bones’ cock from base to tip, one hand stroking Bones’ side and moving up his chest, the other brushing over his reddened flesh before searching for and finding his opening, well, Bones doesn’t seem to mind so much if the stuttering of his hips and strangled moan are any indication.

Jim is careful not to give Bones’ dick too much attention, not wanting it to be over too soon. He licks and sucks the shaft and the testicles underneath and let his hands map out Bones’ body, relearns all those parts of him that he hasn’t noticed in forever. He scratches lightly at Bones’ nipples, rubs gently over furled skin and lets his finger slip inside, touches and tastes and worships and just loves Bones so much, he doesn’t understand now how he’s missed all the signs.

And he thought _Bones_ was the one who needed to think about things.

He goes as slowly as he can, trying and mostly succeeding in ignoring his own erection, so impossibly turned on by the way Bones moves above him, by the broken cries he makes as he tries to get even closer, even deeper. But eventually, Bones doesn’t want slow anymore, hell, doesn’t want anything but harder and more and now and—

Jim can’t help it, he swears he can’t, but the feel of Bones fucking his mouth is making him mindless and insane, and he’s humping the air, he wants him so much, but he won’t, he can’t take his hands off of Bones, can’t stop touching him, and he’s got two fingers in him now, and Bones is making these whimpering, desperate sounds as he moves into and out of Jim’s mouth, as he fucks himself on Jim’s fingers so hard that it’s got to hurt his already abused ass, but he’s still not coming, even though Jim’s sucking and sucking and _sucking_.

Ah hell, who is Jim kidding? Bones has always been a dirty fuck, it’s one of the things he loves about him so much, and just because Jim has had his epiphany doesn’t mean Bones is suddenly going to start wanting him to be all timid and gentle. So the next time Bones thrusts in, Jim lets his teeth graze over Bones’ cock, just a little bit as he works another finger into him, Bones so tight and greedy, as he reaches around and pinches Bones’ fucking gorgeous ass, and oh yeah, that does it. Bones starts shuddering and shouting behind the gag, damn near choking Jim as he thrusts uncontrollably, his thighs squeezing Jim like he’s hanging on to him for dear life, and Jim swallows again and again but still can’t catch it all, can feel Bones’ come leaking down his cheek, and fuck it, Jim doesn’t even have time to undo his pants, rubbing himself to orgasm through the cloth as Bones lets everything go.

Afterward, Bones groans, pulling out of Jim’s mouth on legs that threaten to collapse, and he shuffles forward a bit before just slumping and sitting back onto his calves, which is a bad, bad idea, and he squeaks—and Jim knows he’s totally going to deny it later, but it was so a squeak—getting back up onto his knees and turning to glare at Jim like it's all his fault.

Jim rolls his eyes and really, really doesn’t want to move, but he does because it’s Bones, his Bones, and he takes the gag off of him and unties his arms, massaging them, and helps him up onto the bed and onto his stomach before going to get a hypo to help with the swelling and pain.

“And you call me an idiot,” Jim complains after they’ve finally settled down. “You should have said something.” And they both know he’s not just talking about the way Bones let the spanking go longer than necessary.

“Would you have paid attention?” Bones’ voice is a low grumble into the pillow, and he doesn’t open his eyes.

Jim wants to say that yes, he most definitely would have, that Bones comes first, always has, always will, that he just gets busy sometimes, but it doesn’t mean anything, and he would’ve done something if he’d just known. But he doesn’t want to lie, even on accident, and he remembers how hectic it's been for the past few months, how distracted he was, and he can’t say for certain what he would have done. So he says instead, “I will now.” And that’s the truth, that’s a promise, because Bones _is_ that important, and Jim has never been stupid enough to make the same mistake twice, not when it matters this much.

Bones finally looks at him, and whatever he sees makes his mouth twitch like he’s going to smile, but he buries his head deeper into the pillow instead, snuggles a little closer to Jim, and all he says is, “Good.”


End file.
